


Unstoppable Force/Immovable Object

by InTheWind



Series: Living [3]
Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: F/M, Spoilers for Episode: s01e12 The Fog of War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 05:10:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5772481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InTheWind/pseuds/InTheWind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leanne pays Cole a visit after learning of his decision to leave Angels Memorial.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unstoppable Force/Immovable Object

Leanne wasn't sure what she expected to find when she made a beeline for Cole's place after her shift was over. She held her breath as she knocked on the door, half expecting it to swing open and reveal an apartment that was just as empty as his office had been. But the wood felt just as solid as it always did beneath her fist, and after a minute she heard Cole's footsteps approaching and the locks clicking out of place.

She almost jumped back as he opened the door; he smelled like a brewery and looked even more exhausted than she felt—a feat considering she'd been the one treating patients all night. The concern that had been gnawing at the pit of her stomach since she'd heard he hadn't shown up for work the previous evening only deepened as he wordlessly stepped aside to let her in.

“I don't see any moving boxes,” she commented, looking around. The living room was a wreck, with bottles and papers strewn everywhere, but nothing that signaled his departure was imminent. “I guess that's a good sign.”

Cole sighed. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” he started, but she cut him off with a look.

“ _That's_ what you're sorry about?”

“This isn't about you, Leanne—or us, alright?” He started pacing agitatedly in front of her. “It's me—I just couldn't hack it. And my father, you know—”

“Don't you dare blame this on your father. You didn't have to see his face when he found out you were gone—I did. You humiliated him, and more than that you broke his heart.” She stepped forward, blocking his path, and gently placed her hands on his arms to still him. “He wants you to succeed, Cole. He put his reputation on the line because he wants you to be happy—because he knows you _can_ be happy if you just get out of your own way.”

Cole shook his head. “Did he tell you that? Look, I know you're trying to help, but you really don't know the first thing about what I'm going through.”

“I think I know what you're going through better than anybody,” she countered. “We're two sides of the same coin, you and I. You can't stay still for all the same reasons I can't move forward. And what good has that been doing either of us, hmm? You tell me.”

Cole threw his hands up. “I don't know, Leanne. You think this is fun for me? I'm sorry, okay—I really thought I could do it this time, but I just can't.”

“That's crap and you know it,” she told him. “You're a brilliant surgeon, Cole. I mean, sure, you're a pain in the ass, but how many of my patients ended up walking out of that hospital because of you?”

“And at what point does it start becoming worth it?” he demanded. “How do you deal with being able to save everyone except the people who mattered most to you?”

So there it was, the crux of the matter. She was surprised he'd admitted it so easily—maybe Rollie had been right after all, when he'd said weeks ago that she was getting through to Cole somehow. She surprised herself with just how much she hoped that was the case.

“I don't think it's really a question of being worth it or not,” she said finally, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “Would I trade every patient I've saved for the last three years if I could have my husband and kids back? This probably isn't the answer the ethics board would like to hear, but yeah, in a heartbeat. I'm sure you'd do the same for your mother, only we can't, Cole. We can't bring them back.”

“So what, then?” he asked, shoulders slumping. “What now?”

“Hell if I know. Not this, though.” Leanne walked around him and flopped down on the couch, busying herself with peeling the label off of one of the beer bottles left out on the coffee table. “Best I can figure is, we do our jobs and try to keep anyone else's family from living the kind of hell we've been through. But maybe Jesse's right, maybe that's not enough.” She looked up; he was still facing the door, his back to her, but something told her he was listening so she continued. “I've spent the past three years thinking I'm being punished for something, but I don't know... maybe I've just been punishing myself. Maybe we both are.”

He finally turned to face her. “So how do we stop?”

“I don't know,” she admitted. “I've never tried.”

Cole seemed to accept this answer. He went to grab a couple of fresh beers from the fridge, handing one to Leanne as he sat down next to her. They sat in silence for a while.

“Do you ever wonder what they'd think of you now?” he finally asked.

“I try not to,” she replied. “Do you?”

“All the time,” he said. “I try to be the kind of person that she would have thought was worth sticking around for. I'm pretty sure I miss the mark, most of the time.”

“I think she'd be more proud of you than you know,” Leanne said. “Tell me about her?”

Cole put his arm around Leanne, and she curled up against him as he pulled her close and regaled her with stories from his childhood. At first he spoke of his mother as a domestic goddess and homemaker extraordinaire, someone who reigned larger than life in his memory. But the longer he talked, the more he began to let her flaws creep into the narrative—her unpredictable moods, her grandiose plans and optimistic promises that never seemed to come to fruition. Before long Leanne found herself holding him while he cried in her arms, telling her about his mother's depressive episodes and his own inability to reach her, to keep her close through the fog—and how he eventually lost her to it.

“I keep thinking, you know, if I can just get a fresh start... but it's like I can't get far enough,” he told her. “How do you do it? I mean, you worked at Angels before the accident. How do you keep going back there every day? Don't you ever just want to run?”

“I guess I never really saw the point,” she answered truthfully. “At least at work I don't have to think about anything but the job. What does it matter, if I'm in the same hospital or a different one every week?”

“I just keep thinking it'll be different somewhere else...”

“No,” she said, running her thumb gently along his jawline. “You've gotta be different. _We_ have to be. Nothing else is going to change if we don't.”

He nodded. She let her hand rest against his cheek and he covered it with his, bringing her fingers to his lips for a soft kiss. “Do you think we can?”

“I don't know,” she admitted.

“Do you think it's too late to get my job back?”

At this, Leanne laughed. “I hope not. I'd put in a good word for you, but I don't think my word means all that much right now.”

Cole raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? The board loves you.”

“Let's just say it's been a rough night.”

“Yeah, there seems to be a lot of that going around,” he replied. He glanced at the clock on his cable box, doing a double take when he realized it was already mid-morning. “Come on, let's get some sleep. You have to be back there in eight hours and I'm not exactly in any shape to grovel for my job right now.”

He stood, and she allowed him to take her hand and pull her up with him. “You, grovel?” she remarked. “That I'd like to see.”

“Yeah, you might get your wish,” he said.

He led her into the bedroom, where she watched as he closed the curtains and set the alarm. It was such an ordinary, domestic routine, but it sent a pang of familiarity through her that she tried her best to ignore. Leanne tossed her jeans and sweatshirt onto a nearby chair, stripping down to her underwear and tank top before climbing into bed beside him. It was the first time they'd shared a bed without having sex, and somehow it seemed that much more intimate than their previous encounters. She turned her back to him and closed her eyes, sighing as she felt his arm reach possessively around her waist.

“Just promise me one thing,” she said quietly, “Whatever happens with the board.”

“Hmm?”

“Don't run from me.”

He kissed the top of her head, and she could feel his breath like a breeze through her hair. He didn't answer her, but it didn't seem to matter. Within minutes they were both asleep.


End file.
